Captain's Log
by sillynekorobs
Summary: The continuing exploits of Captain James Tiberius Kirk, doing what Captain James Tiberius Kirk does best: making sure the lives of his crew are never boring. Drabble-tastic!
1. Lending a Hand

**AN:** I enjoy my Metalocalypse drabbles a lot. They help me let off creative steam so my brain doesn't explode all over my senior seminar work. So I thought there would be no harm in posting my Star Trek drabbles, too.

**Disclaimer:** Star Trek and all characters involved belong to Roddenberry, Paramount, etc.

**o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o-o o-o-o-o**

**Lending a Hand**

**- - - - -**

It was common knowledge that James T. Kirk hated to be left out of anything he took an interest in. This apparently included the personal time that actively dating officers under his command spent together. Noticing Lieutenant Uhura gently tracing patterns on First Officer Spock's fingers in an out of the way section of the mess, he immediately perked up.

"Ooh, are we doing hand massages? I can do that!" Bounding over, Kirk grabbed Spock's free hand in both of his own and squeezed. Hard.

"Mmph!"

The relaxed, pleased, slightly dazed look on the Vulcan's face disappeared in a fraction of a second to be replaced with an expression that was almost entirely unreadable. One eye twitched. Pale cheeks were suddenly awash with deep, deep green. Spock's spine straightened so quickly the snapping of vertebrae could be heard as he wrenched his hand out of Jim's grabby grip and walked, quickly yet extremely stiffly, away.

Kirk wilted under the force of Uhura's glare. "Was it something I did?"

**- **end -


	2. Need for Speed

**Need for Speed**

**- - - - - **

Very rarely could Kirk say that he enjoyed someone screaming in his ear. This was one of those rare times.

"Dammit, Jim, you slow this damn thing down right _now!_"

"What's that? I can't hear you, Bones!"

Fields of knee high grain flew by in a green and brown blur as the bike sped down the dirt road, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. Kirk grinned as his CMO's arms tightened impossibly around his waist, scrabbling desperately for a secure grip. He had somehow known coaxing his best pal onto some fast wheels for a little shore leave joyride was a good idea.

"Do you have any idea what happens to your body when you wreck a bike at this speed?! Helmet or not, your head explodes like a ripe melon when it impacts the ground at eighty! Your tibias shatter like toothpicks and protrude from your tattered flesh! Your spine—my God, are we speeding up?! I'll get you for this, you idiot! Jiiiiiiiiim!!"

Kirk fondly shook his head as he expertly guided the shiny new bike into a complex zigzag weave to avoid a series of deep potholes entrenched in the old Iowa back road, and felt McCoy's face reflexively bury itself between his shoulder blades. Shore leave was off to a fantastic start.

Maybe he could coax Spock into a ride tomorrow…

- end-


	3. Common Knowledge

**Common Knowledge **

**- - - - -**

"Are you really sure, Chekov?"

"Yes, Keptin! Absolutely sure!" Big brown puppy dog eyes glimmered with something akin to tears. A pouty lower lip trembled, almost imperceptive.

Slouched in the captain's chair, Kirk rubbed at the back of his neck. "Jeez, kid. I wanna believe you, I really do. But I just don't think I can. I'm almost sure I remember learning that it came from Germany."

"No!" The refusal was almost a wail. "No, you are wrong, Keptin! Wery respectfully, you are wrong!"

"Alright, look. Can you prove it?"

"Yes! Yes, I can!" The young ensign nodded quickly, curls bouncing. "I will get _Space History_ PADD from my quarters. I will show you that Sputnik, she was inwented in Russia!"

"Okay, you do that. Run quick, now, you hear? I go on break in ten minutes."

"Yes, Keptin!"

As Chekov all but bolted from the bridge, Kirk couldn't stifle a snicker. He did, however, notice the odd glances the rest of the officers were giving him. Sulu in particular looked quietly disapproving. "Oh, come on. That's funny! Tomorrow I'm claiming vodka comes from Norway."

- end -


	4. Playing Doctor

**Playing Doctor **

**- - - - -**

"I think you should reconsider, Bones."

"Uh-huh."

"As you know, I have only the best interest of the crew at heart. Their health is top priority to me."

"Sure it is."

"I also think you realize that the procedure will go much faster if you let me help you."

"Would it, now."

"Of course. And this is the perfect opportunity for more of the crew to be able to interact one on one with their captain. It'll keep morale up!"

"I really don't think so."

"Okay, okay, just a few of them! I'll personally pick a couple off the database and—"

"Jim!" Doctor McCoy could finally take no more. Whirling upon Kirk, he forcefully began to push the protesting captain toward the doors of the med bay. "For the _final _time, you are _not_ going to help give the female crew members breast exams! Now get the hell out of here until you're injured or diseased or dead!"

Kirk huffed and brushed at his uniform as the doors slid smoothly shut behind him. "Spoil sport."

- end -


End file.
